Mirror of Erised
by Ickle-Ronnikens
Summary: In her haste to rid of a book, Ginny finds a mirror. Please ignore mistakes and time errors- then read and review!


**Mirror of Erised**

**Disclaimer – **JK Rowling owns Potter not me.

**Warnings-** slight explicit content, nothing too irrational.

Ginny Weasley was running, running through the corridors of Hogwarts, people gawping at her as she passed them, skidding round corners and slightly short of breath. Her mind was racing, her heart was pumping, the little black book in her hand needed to go, and she was straining her mind for a place where she was sure no one would find it. She was opening doors left right and centre, randomly and at unordinary intervals; she by-passed classroom after classroom, occasionally a bathroom too- but none of them were likely to hold the secret of the book forever.

She couldn't risk a bathroom again, even despite the fact she had dispensed it into a haunted females lavatory, Harry Potter had found it, the last person on earth she had wished to find it. Now, after raiding his dormitory (perhaps a little too fiercely) and finding the diary, she was determined to get rid of it, properly; _there has to be a place_ she thought to herself _a place to hide this ridicule diary once and for all._

As she pelted along the corridors, feeling like she was going in circles, she came to a halt outside a peculiar looking door, one that she had not seen before. Certainly, there were many secrets and undiscovered portions of Hogwarts that even people like Filch of Fred and George were unaware of- but this door, looked... almost out of place.

It was large and rounded, its archway was fixed with brilliant stone and the handles were gold, whether real or not she did not know. She looked around, and besides an old tapestry that depictured a handful of trolls clubbing a futile looking Wizard, there wasn't a single person about the place.

Hands shaking, she grabbed the handle and pulled it open; her jaw dropped. As she stepped inside, it was like she had stepped into a rather large cathedral that had been turned into a treasure room, with mounds upon mounds of items that lay in massive piles erecting towards the ceiling.

The mass was made up of everything you could think of, and Ginny wondered if it had all materialised out of thin air, just for her to see and hide the Diary at the very bottom, impossible for others to find. There was old and crumbling furniture where some had the unmistakable signs of being effected by magic (such as cabinets with doors ripped clean of its hinges), and therefore changed Ginny's mind of her being the first to find this room. There were old text books, battered a bruised, some even branded the library seal, lost and forever unreturned. Rows of burnt-out cauldrons sat on top of each other, some sporting gaping holes in every side. There were also old hats, cloaks, broken scales, tethered broomsticks, broken wands, bent quills, old parchment and empty ink bottles. There was also the odd out-of-place item or two that stood out among the ruins; crumbled oversized chess pieces, a warlock statue sporting a wig, jewels the size of Quaffles, a dazzling silver tiara that winked at her and a rather tall, golden crested mirror that instantly caught Ginny's attention.

Forgetting her job at hand, Ginny walked light-headed towards the mirror, captivated by its beauty as she read the gibberish words etched along the top.

_Erised srta ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi._

Not even beginning to understand what that meant, she stared into the mirror again and got quite a shock. It was not just her reflection it showed now, as it had done so a moment before; it also depictured another figure, standing tall and handsome beside her, his jet-black hair sticking up at the back as he smiled at her with those piercing green eyes through his circular rimmed glasses. Ginny felt herself go crimson as she turned on the spot, expecting to see him standing there, ready to explain.

'I-' she stopped as quickly as she started, her eyebrows rose.

Despite her disappointment, she was very much alone. There was nothing but air and a pile of books behind her, the line of objects that filled this row would have been unable to block Harry completely from view. And there was no way he could have just disappeared, apparition was impossible from inside Hogwarts, and even still Harry couldn't apparate yet.

She whirled around to face the mirror again with a devastating sigh, only to turn scarlet once again. Standing there beside her reflection, just like he had the moment before, was Harry Potter. He was beaming at her, and she was forever still turning a darker shade of red. After several more double takes, however, she was forced to realise that the mirror didn't just show your reflection. It must also show your mind, or your thoughts; she had just been thinking of him after all.

She stared at him, his green eyes sparkled as he smiled back, and Ginny's insides went completely fuzzy. And then, as Harry in the mirror put a hand out to put on her shoulder, she jumped. Again she found herself turning on the spot, looking around- had she imagined a hand on her _real _shoulder? Or was she just hoping there had been one there, wishing Harry would touch her in real life like the one in the mirror had just done.

She turned back to it, entrance, and Harry was still smiling down at her. He reached an arm out again, this time Ginny took an intake of breath and closed her eyes as she felt his hand grasp her shoulder. She felt weak at her knees as Harry took a step forward so he was right beside her. She then watched, absolutely captivated, as her reflection and the boy she loved leaned in to kiss.

This time her legs did give in; for a moment, her reflection followed her. But with the skills of a Seeker, Harry in the mirror caught her reflection, and left the Ginny bang her knees on the cold floor, feeling a complete uproar of jealousy as he kissed her. Somewhere inside herself she knew it wasn't real, that she wasn't to believe it; but the idea that she herself wasn't able to kiss him, but here mere reflection could, crippled her.

No longer able to watch, she scrambled to her feet and peeled her eyes away, pelting to the exit. With one last look over her shoulder at the mirror, and, with the memory of why she had entered the room in the first place forgotten, she left, her eyes swelling with tears all the way up to her dormitory.

Ginny sat in the back of History of Magic the few days later, scribbling a mirror and a Snitch on a spare piece of parchment and for the first time not thinking about her Diary which had sat in her bag, untouched since the encounter with the mirror. She had not written about anything for several days, and she knew Tom would be getting angry, but she didn't care. All she could think about was that room, that mirror, and the reflection she'd seen. She had had to restrain herself twice already from walking past the tapestry of the seventh floor, and also from being in Harry Potter's presence, afraid she might get angry with him.

As the bell rang out for the end of class, and her classmates filled out longingly for lunch, Ginny's mind rattled. Who would notice her missing if she wasn't down for lunch? Would she be breaking school rules if she just had another peak in that glorious mirror? Would anyone care? She didn't suspect anyone would. So with her mind set, and class over (Professor Binns had just drifted casually through the floor) Ginny set off for the seventh floor, fighting against the sea of black going in the opposite direction.

Eventually she made it to the tapestry, feeling excited; but shockingly, her eyes in disbelief, the door had gone. She looked round, it was the right tapestry- she was sure the door had been right here, where her hands now pressed against the cold wall. She put an ear to it, wondering if it might help it appear- nothing happened.

Vaguely wondering if there was perhaps a double of the tapestry, she retraced her steps, edging up the end of the corridor, peering around the corner and then, after seeing no tapestry, skidded back the other way, peering down the corridor up the opposite end. Once again, however, there was no sign of another tapestry or door- she therefore concluded, with no other explanation or tapestry in sight that this must be the corridor in which sat the room.

But then, just as she was wandering back towards the other end of the corridor, thinking that it had all been in her head, there was a rumbling sound that was not her stomach wanting food. It came from the blank wall, and Ginny found her jaw drop yet again as a door materialised from no where, its brass archway and golden knocker gleaming in the afternoon sun. Ginny eagerly pushed it forwards.

Realising how the room must work, she closed it shut and locked it for a bit of privacy, once again moving along the mass line of objects to where the mirror now sat, gleaming in wait for her. She approached it cautiously, unsure what she may see. But once again, as she got to the foot of it, found not just her reflection in the magical mirror, but Harry Potter's.

He was embracing her, and they were smiling; Ginny did too, feeling suddenly warm. She threw her bag aside and sat down, crossing her legs and putting her elbows on her knees so she could prop her head up with her hands, watching fruitlessly. The pair hugged and smiled, and Ginny felt a twang as they kissed- but that quickly faded, as she realised that she ought not to feel sorry, but happy. It was obvious that this was not real, but that it was merely what she sought after, what she desired most.

It quickly turned into something more for her, something heavier, and Ginny felt suddenly overran, unable to look away. A bit of her knew she must look away, but the rest of her, which easily overpowered the rest, willed her to stay, to look on, as the hours washed away. It was night time, she had easily missed her afternoon classes, yet she continued to gaze, open mouth as her reflection and Harry Potter kissed.

And then it happened.

Harry reached a hand down suddenly, and it disappeared down the reflection of Ginny's skirt. Ginny squealed and jumped, as if it had really happened; she felt a pinch of hotness spread across her face and, a definite warmth in her panties. Now she was entranced more than ever, the feeling of contact must have been her imagination, but she was now mimicking what Harry was doing to her in the mirror. Her small hand disappeared up her skirt, and she felt, unsurprisingly, and considerable amount of dampness down there.

Her gasp echoed thoroughly around the large cathedral like room, bouncing off the walls and returning to her, this only made it hotter for her. She had never touched herself like this before, not intently at least, and as she was still quite young she did not fully appreciate what it all meant; but she kept going.

Her lips salivated at the sight of Harry and her reflection kissing, while her hand mimicked Harry to the upmost perfection, even though she couldn't exactly see what he was doing, she could at least copy the movements. And just as the reflection of her opened her mouth and screamed noiselessly, the real thing let out an enticing groan that also echoed through the room.

And Ginny felt rather windswept, she had just experienced her first orgasm.

'Whoa.'

Breathless, unsure entirely what she had just done, yet keen to do it again, she decided it was best to leave. It seemed a lot easier now, than it had a minute ago, to merely rise to her feet (albeit gingerly) and wander towards the exit. But it was of great relief that she left this time, not of shock or of disappointment. Her heart fluttered as she opened the door, stepped out over the threshold and departed to her dormitory, maybe she might sleep tonight.

Over the following few days, Ginny repeatedly visited the mirror, sometimes at many hours at a time so that she missed several lessons in a row. She even, one time, fell asleep and woke up the next day, only leaving because she was very hungry. It was one day, however, as summer approached, when Ginny diverted her course from class to the seventh floor that it finally happened.

She did her usual double-take along the familiar corridor, so that the door would appear as she requested. She then ducked in, locked the door behind her and made for the isle with the mirror when, turning into the isle, she stopped dead.

Her heart sank; she was staring down the isle of in which she knew the mirror had always been, yet, now, it was empty. It was not there, it had gone. She stumbled forward, looking around aimlessly, feeling her feet loose underneath her. And then, just when she thought she might've gone up the wrong isle, she turned and made a gasp of surprised.

Professor Dumbledore stood at the end of the isle, smiling sweetly and wearing his bright blue robes, his silvery beard gleaming brilliantly against the objects around him. His brilliant blue eyes sparkled at her behind his half-moon spectacles, and he seemed quite cheerful.

'Good morning, Miss Weasley,' he said calmly, his eyes twinkled as he said this, 'back again?'

'Professor,' Ginny stuttered, looking distressed. 'I-'

'It's quite alright,' Dumbledore assured her, he continued to smile.

For a moment there was silence, Ginny wasn't quite sure what to say.

'I didn't know-' Ginny started, looking frightened, 'I didn't realise anyone else knew... how did you get in?'

'Ah, well forgive me but,' Dumbledore continued to smile, 'there are some secrets in this school, even I would rather not disclose. Let's just say I am a capable person, able to find – most of the time – what I truly need.'

Ginny nodded but did not pursue him.

'What happened to the mirror?' Ginny asked him.

'Moved, yet again,' he said simply, waving his hand almost in an angst tone. 'I must inform you, Miss Weasley that you are the second of my students in two years to cross that Mirror.

'Although I had thought, and forgive my ignorance, that up here it would be safe,' Dumbledore indicated the surrounded piles, 'I did not believe anyone else would discover this room, or else if they did, certainly not the mirror- I was foolish, of course, severely foolish.'

'The mirror's gone?' Ginny asked sadly, her gut wrench.

'Yes, it is gone,' Dumbledore assured her, 'and again I hope, as I had hoped this time last year, that it will not be discovered again. So that leaves us, Miss Weasley, with an understanding that you will not go searching for it... that your temptation be eroded here in this room, right now, and that you consider missing no more of your rather important classes.'

Dumbledore finished with yet another smile, and Ginny, after hesitating, nodded.

'Then I think,' Dumbledore concluded, arms out and smiling rather as if he was addressing the school at a feast, 'you should return to your Transfiguration class. From what I understand, you are transfiguring match sticks?'

Ginny nodded. 'Yes sir.'

'Excellent, excellent,' Dumbledore seemed to be accompanying her to the exit. 'I remember my first Transfiguration class... quite similar, of course, though as I am considerably older than Professor McGonagall it was not her teaching.'

'You're not old, sir,' Ginny said rather nervously.

But Dumbledore chuckled. 'Quite kind of you.'

They got to the door and Dumbledore hastily opened it for her.

'Do not worry if you are unsuccessful, Miss Weasley,' Dumbledore said to her, still smiling, 'my first attempt at such went fruitlessly unnoticed when I transfigured my desk into a grand piano and back, instead of the match into a needle.'

Ginny giggled.

'Thank you, Professor,' Ginny said finally, as he closed the door behind them, 'and sorry for...'

She lowered her voice as a few sixth-years passed, seemingly surprised that a first-year could be in such trouble that the Headmaster was seeing to it.

'Not at all,' Dumbledore winked, 'you'd better hurry, Miss Weasley, bell rang several minutes ago.'

And Dumbledore left, humming a dignified tune as he turned the corner and disappeared, leaving Ginny to smirk on the spot and trail a thought to what sat in her bag.

She would be writing quite a lot that evening.


End file.
